Chapter Text
The nights after the excursion with the bone glass, Lockwood got even less sleep than previously. The nights were full of pain, physical and mental.
It was a weight off of his shoulders to tell Lucy and George about Jessica, but that didn’t solve everything.
No more secrets, he reminded himself for the 5th night in a row that he was up. He had slept. Kinda. Fitful bursts, between nightmares. Nightmares weren’t an uncommon occurrence for him, or his friends (or other agents), but these ones were new. Often he dreamt of his parents or Jessica dying. Occasionally, he dreamt of a bad case that had led George to almost be ghost touched. Never of Lucy, until now. Most of these nightmares plaguing him were of her dying in different ways: ghosts, the bone glass, accidents, murder, etc. Or, worst of all, she’d leave him.
Lockwood lay among his blankets. His chest was bare, his arm still in a sling from the gunshot wound. The fingers on his good hand tapped aimlessly on top of his sheets, playing a little song that he didn’t even know. That, with the steady tick, tick, of the clock in his room were the only sounds. He stared at the ceiling, his mind mostly empty. A sigh escaped his lips. He was so fucking tired but nothing he did would let him sleep. Maybe he needed help.
Slowly, he sat up. His head throbbed almost as much as his shoulder did. He stumbled down the stairs, trying to avoid the creaky spots, but his head spun. Once in the kitchen, he got himself a glass of water, chugged it, then refilled it. He collapsed into a chair at the thinking cloth. He hadn’t even bothered to turn the light on. The water eased his head slightly. He hadn’t managed to get out of bed and drink (or eat) anything in at least a day, despite his inability to sleep.
In the dark, his eyes focused on a note on the thinking cloth. “LOCKWOOD: leftovers in fridge 4 u” in George’s unruly scrawl. Lockwood sighed. Too much work. He nursed his glass of water, slumping down into the chair. He soon fell asleep, his head on the table, hand still grasping the water glass.
Lucy woke up. For once, it wasn’t in a cold sweat or screaming from a nightmare. Fear crept along the edge of her mind, but she couldn’t remember what she had been dreaming about. She sat up, rubbing the grit from her eyes. Even though it was about 2 am, she felt pretty awake. She thanked the forced vacation DEPRAC had given them after the bone glass incident. The trio wasn’t allowed to take any cases for at least a week, preferably two. So far, they had obeyed. All three of them were in desperate need of sleep and relaxation. Lucy had noticed George started to get antsy in the past day or so, but she figured he could handle a couple more days. Plus, she had more concerning things on her hands: Lockwood. She hadn’t seen him in days. She wasn’t even sure if he had left his room, though she didn’t know. She had spent the past days either sleeping or wandering outside, enjoying the freedom and fresh air.
Lucy stretched her arms over her head, cracking her shoulders and rolling her neck. Well, she may as well get up and get a cup of tea at this rate, she figured. Leisurely, she padded her way downstairs, wrapping a blanket from her bed around her shoulders. She pushed open the kitchen door, flicking the light switch on her way in. To her astonishment, there was a figure passed out at the table.
“Lockwood?” she murmured, approaching the boy.
“Hmmm?” he groaned quietly, raising his head and blinking slowly.
Lucy was taken aback by his appearance. He looked like shit . “Lockwood, when was the last time you ate?” she asked softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He flinched away from it. “I don’t remember…”
Concerned, Lucy bit her lip. Anger bubbled up within her, but she knew it wouldn’t help Lockwood if she blew up at him at that moment. “Okay,” she said, retreating to the fridge. “Stew from last night? Cheese on toast?” she listed off a couple of other options.
“Not hungry,” he stated, head falling back into his arm on the table.
“I don’t care,” Lucy snapped. She took a breath, composing herself. “If you can’t or won’t feed yourself, I’m going to make you something. I don’t care if you’re not hungry. I won’t let you starve yourself, Anthony.”
He softened, hearing her say his given name. He sat up, dark eyes finding hers. “You pick. I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me.” He knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach it, but he’d try, just for her.
Lucy nodded, warmth spreading through her. She was grateful he was going to let her take care of him.
In silence, Lucy warmed up a bowl of stew and made a couple of slices of toast. She set them in front of Lockwood, along with a cup of tea. She settled opposite him, sipping her own scalding tea.
Lockwood looked down at the food, and back up at Lucy. She could see fear in his eyes. She reached over and took a piece of toast. “C’mon, let’s eat, together,” she murmured. He bit his lip, picking up a piece as well.
Together, they took the first bite of their toast. Lockwood’s jaw felt like it wouldn’t work, with how difficult it was for him to chew it. However, after a couple of bites following Lucy’s lead, Lockwood’s hunger hit him. He ate the rest of the food in front of him quickly and easily.
Lucy watched him carefully throughout this, not saying anything, just sipping her tea.
Once he was finished, he looked up at Lucy, taking a drink of his tea. The color was back in his face, though his dark circles were too deep. “Thank you, Luce,” he whispered.
She smiled. “Feel better, now?”
“A little.”
“Have you slept, at all?” Lucy finally asked.
“Barely. Less than usual.”
Even Lucy knew Lockwood’s sleep schedule was minimal to start with. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Lockwood frowned as he thought. Though, in reality, he knew what he needed to get through his Lucy nightmares, he was just working up the nerve to ask her. “I-, I keep having nightmares about you. Mostly your death, in horrific ways,” he shuddered.
Suddenly, Lucy was beside him, wrapping her arms around him, and pulling him against her chest. “Lockwood, I’m here. I’m real. I’m alive,” she whispered, stroking his hair. He reluctantly put his good hand on her waist, his ear pressed against her chest. He listened to her heartbeat for a long moment.
“Will you come to bed with me?” he asked, so softly Lucy almost missed it.
“Of course.” She let go of him, letting him guide her upstairs to his room.
He hesitated at the threshold, turning back towards Lucy. “Will you wait for me to shower? I-”
She cut him off before he could explain himself. “Yup, no need for an explanation. Take your time, I’ll be here when you’re done.”
He smiled a soft, intimate smile. One Lucy had never seen before. She settled down, sitting crisscrossed on Lockwood’s bed as he collected fresh pajamas and disappeared out the door.
Lockwood was thankful for her. Thankful that she hadn’t given him a chance to be that vulnerable with her, and admit he hadn’t washed up in days. He hoped she couldn’t tell, but he figured she could. He showered quickly, grateful to finally have the energy to take care of himself, despite being exhausted. He didn’t dawdle though, not wanting to make Lucy wait.
He slipped back into his room, feeling significantly better. Lucy turned from where she was looking at his bookshelf to give Lockwood a smile.
The two settled into his bed, side by side.
“Thank you, Luce. This means a lot,” he mumbled.
“Your welcome, Lockwood.”
Lockwood turned onto his side to look at her. She turned her head to meet his gaze.
“Can I-” he whispered.
“Yeah,” she responded. She moved closer to him, pressing her back against his front. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck. He intended to hold her close, but his slinged arm was not providing to be useful. With the smell of her shampoo in his nose, Lockwood fell asleep, faster than he had in a long time.
When Lockwood awoke in the early afternoon, Lucy was gone. For the first time since he was a child, he had slept peacefully, not plagued by nightmares. He wished Lucy would sleep with him more often. The company of another person was wonderful, but specifically the no nightmares thing was the best.
Though, he wasn’t sure he could get the guts to ask her to sleep with him again.